


Not Just Another Icarus

by Bleach_ed_Na_tsu



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu/pseuds/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu
Summary: The wind adored him. Since he was a child the wind had run her fingers through his hair, and had taught him the way of her roads. Throughout his life he had stepped into the sky with her, but always falling just short of the clouds. Now though, with Reborn in his life and fire in his hands, Tsuna finally found his wings. No pairing. Inspired by 'Wind Running'
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	Not Just Another Icarus

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Wind Running by '0Oo The River Witch oO0' who has given me permission to write this one-shot inspired by their fic. It truly is an amazing idea and I couldn't help but want to run with it. I have changed it up a bit, including Tsuna's injury and the severity. But the idea of Tsuna adoring parkour and the wind adoring him remain the same. PLEASE go read their fic! Please please! It is fantastic and they need to know it!

When Tsuna was four, he realised that his mother was a little over protective. Of course, he didn't realise what this meant. He just knew that she kept a tight hold on him, tighter than most women with their children.

It was almost stifling.

She would flinch at loud noises, and always made sure that Tsuna understood one had to be wary of strangers. They even had a safe word: hamaguri and it changed sometime later to Vongola. Tsuna didn't understand this, but it meant that whoever said they were there to pick him up, also had to know one of these words. If they knew it, then they were safe. Vongola, to a young Tsuna, came to mean safety and help, which was strange because he hated clams.

It didn't matter to Tsuna that his mother was frantic about it. He just nodded and did as she said. But still, her worry for him, of strangers, kept him in the house through much of his childhood. He was allowed to play in his backyard and sometimes his front yard, but he rarely, if ever, left his home.

He didn't go to day-care like many of the children in the area, so he had little interaction with anyone. It was lonely, but moreover, even at five years old, Tsuna felt trapped. It made him itch and the heat he was born with grumbled and hissed at the injustice of it all.

Tsuna didn't really know what this _heat_ was, only that it was there, sitting in his belly. It kept him safe and warm. It helped him avoid falls, made sure that one year old Tsuna didn't let his curiosity lead him to put colourful liquids from under the sink into his mouth, and three year old Tsuna to play with the shiny little tubes he found under the stairs. The fire told four year old Tsuna not to touch the handles that poked out of drawers and buttons hidden under tables.

All because of this heat.

It grew to be a very steady part of him. It kept him safe. It kept him _balanced_. However, the only time it purred in true happiness, was when Tsuna caught sight of the sky. Tsuna was bold when he was four, and he followed the heat to the side of the house.

He followed the heat and the wind pushed him around. Soon enough, he found the little bricks that poked out at him. He found windowsills and grabbed pipe-works. He hummed. As he grew closer to the roof, he grew more and more deliriously happy.

As he tried to pull himself over the lip of the roof, little hands gripping the eaves trough with near-desperation. The heat flared suddenly. Tsuna toppled right onto the sloped roof, tumbling head over heels. The heat simmered back down, still jumping with excitement.

The feeling was one that Tsuna would never forget. They lived on the crest of a hill and thought their house wasn't tall, Tsuna felt as if he were on top of the world. All he saw was sky and road. All he saw were rooftops and possibilities. All he saw was a freedom he hadn't known he _needed_.

"Tsuna! What are you doing up there?!" His mother's screech shocked him, but Tsuna didn't understand her horror. He was so close to the sky. He was so _happy!_

Tsuna leaned forward, smiling at his mother. He was overwhelmed at the sheer joy in his blood. But he leaned too far and suddenly, the heat was roaring in defence and Tsuna wanted to scream, but then there was wind! Called to the danger of the boy, it blew him backwards and onto his rear, saving him from falling two stories down.

A rush later, Nana had him in her arms, scolding him and making him promise to _never_ to climb so high again. Tsuna nodded, because he didn't like that his mother was almost crying.

Tsuna couldn't keep his promise though. He just learned how to hide his desires. Tsuna learned to watch the wind. He knew that she was the reason he could still climb. Tsuna was young, so he saw what the adults dismissed. Tsuna knew, innately, that the wind wanted him to join her.

By the time Tsuna was five, he already saw the roads in the sky.

Nana knew that Tsuna still climbed to the roof. She knew he sat in the branches of trees, and that he sat closest to the window wherever they were. But he was safe, the wind always caught him. The wind cared for him. He was never hurt by his climbing and he was happy. She had let it go and tried to ignore the gut clenching fear in her whenever he was up high.

She tried not to think about how vulnerable he was up there in the open.

Iemitsu arrived around this time, his boss trailing behind him. Timoteo had really aged. "Ah, my dear Nana. Motherhood really has taken to you. You are practically radiant, but we miss you at home." He had aged indeed, but he was no less sly and charismatic.

After all, Timoteo was a mafia Boss, _the_ boss in fact. He had to be charismatic and sly. He had been in power since his twenties and had brought a rather quiet era. Now, in his sixties, he could say he was proud of his reign. Iemitsu was his advisor and closest friend. A son –of sorts– amongst men. Nana had been a part of the mafia for many years and had joined Vongola after meeting Iemitsu, before the man became Timoteo's advisor.

"Now, Timoteo, that will get you nowhere. I will return home once Tsu-chan is older." That was the deal, though Nana didn't know how much she would miss the constant flow of people in the mansions.

"I know, but an old man can try."

Nana smiled and Iemitsu spluttered. That was _his_ wife, after all. Though he couldn't fault the old man, Nana had been an incredible asset. "Tsuna, come in! We have someone for you to meet."

Nana chuckled at the pout in her husband's voice and instead prepared for her little boy. She wasn't wrong in thinking that he would see the stranger and immediately hunker behind her legs. Iemitsu laughed at his little boy, and Timoteo simply smiled with nostalgia.

"Hello, Tsunayoshi. Your Papa tells me a lot about you." The boy didn't move, even when the old man crouched down to his level. So he tried again. "How would you like to call me Grandpa? Your Mama and Papa are like my children and I would love for you to be a part of my family too."

Tsuna's eyes flashed for a second before they flickered up to Nana and then to Iemitsu. Both of them grinned. Iemitsu stuck his thumbs up, pride blooming in his chest at his boss' words. Nana, however, had an idea. She crouched down and whispered in Tsuna's ear.

Tsuna grinned a little and looked at the Ninth again. "Do you know the safe word?" he whispered, a little surer of himself now.

Timoteo looked amusedly at the giggling Nana and the bellowing Iemitsu before turning back to Tsuna. "Vongola." It amused him more when Tsuna grinned and threw himself at the old man, all inhibitions gone now that safety had been established. Nana had done a very good job.

"I'd like to call you Grandpa, please!"

After that, the small family, plus one, lazed around. Timoteo had come to Japan for a short break while he could still afford it. He was looking into places to retire along the way. While he knew it was only because of Tsuna and his family, Timoteo felt like Japan could very well be the place.

Later on, Timoteo and Iemitsu were chatting away in the living room while Nana did some errands. The two men, so preoccupied in their reminiscing, lost track of Tsuna within an hour. When they finally noticed, they jumped up, searching for the boy. When there was no sign of him, they panicked. The only thing keeping them calm was the fact that no flame signatures or strange auras had appeared. So the Mafia wasn't at fault. Still, their frantic searching brought up nothing but desperation. Suddenly, childish laughter sounded outside. The Ninth and Iemitsu rushed into the backyard to find it. When the pair of Mafioso saw what was happening they were very glad that Nana had felt like going shopping by herself that afternoon. She would have fainted.

Tsuna was on the edge of the roof, kicking his little legs and trying to get up. Iemitsu and the Ninth froze, unsure of what to do. The boy was _laughing_ as the wind twirled around his hair. He was pulling himself up with such strain, and then he slipped and Iemitsu nearly exploded.

Except there was a different kind of explosion.

Heat wrapped around the Vongola men and their eyes widened when flames pooled around Tsuna, specifically his feet. With one more little kick, the boy was propelled and tumbled over the edge of the roof.

A cold sort of acceptance swirled around the men. They ignored the shocked gasp from Tsuna, and the bashful look on his face at being caught. The two men looked to each other instead. After a moment of silent conversation, they nodded, one with grim determination and the other with grim sorrow.

They got Tsuna off the roof, and he apologizes. "Please don't tell Mama, Papa." He was blushing and avoiding eye contact, but grinning like a loon. "She doesn't like me climbing stuff."

And Iemitsu was suddenly reminded of the frantic call a year ago when Nana used his common telephone line. The seriousness of her voice had startled him, but he discounted it. _"He's your son alright. Your father would have loved him."_

But Iemitsu didn't really understand it. He clutched the boy close to his chest as Timoteo hardened his heart to what they were about to do next. He had to know though. "Why do you keep doing it then, Tsu-fish?"

The boy looked completely confused, as if it were the most natural thing,, as if he were confused by his father's lack of need. For the boy, it was natural though. Suddenly, Iemitsu recognised his father and grandfather, and even a younger version of himself in his son's words.

"I want to be close to the sky."

Iemitsu didn't have long to think on that though because the Ninth was already pressing a flame coated finger to a curious Tsuna's head.

"I name you heir, Tsunayoshi Sawada." he muttered, sealing the boy's fate to Vongola. He looked to Iemitsu and promised training for the boy when he was old enough.

Timoteo wondered what affliction the First boss must have had to make his descendants become almost consumed by this need for height. Iemitsu had it bad when he was a boy. His position in the CEDEF seemed to sate the need for height though. However, Timoteo saw his advisors' wistful little looks from time to time, even if the blond man wasn't aware of them.

The Ninth Vongola boss wondered upon this while his flames died out. The boy was safe now, the flames wouldn't lead him astray or bring danger close. He smiled, even as the child started screaming at the imbalance inside him.

The wind roared around the boy as he sobbed. The wind curled around him and threatened the two men who had done this to them. It roared and threw sticks and bricks around. But the men just sighed and took Tsuna inside. It took a long while for Tsuna to settle down. When he finally did, he looked lost. But for a five year old, trauma was gone in hours, although he still stared at the sky longingly. The wind roared for much, much longer than Tsuna did.

* * *

Tsuna was six when he fell down stairs and ran into walls. He tripped on his feet and bullies started finding him more and more appealing.

Iemitsu and Nana both noticed it. The way Tsuna's feet remain on the ground and his eyes on the sky.

* * *

Tsuna was eight when he looked wistfully at the roofs and wondered why he couldn't hear the wind anymore. He was eight and his heart ached like nothing else. He still longed for the height of the roofs and desired to run along the roads of the wind. While the fire in his belly had been dulled to an ache and had stopped urging him, the wind had not stopped calling. It never stopped.

It was painful because Tsuna had no ability to fly. He hadn't flown since the fire left. The last time he had tried –up a tree because at least that had rungs– he had fallen to the ground. The wind that left his lips had felt like a betrayal. Nana had been frantic when he came home covered in sticks. He refused to tell her the truth and instead cried in secret.

Then he noticed a boy.

* * *

He ran behind the wind, slow but steady. He was vicious. Tsuna had seen him in school, beating rule-breakers down to nothing, but he was strong. This boy was free. Tsuna saw him running on the roof-tops, flipping and turning, tucking and rolling. He seemed so close to the sky and Tsuna felt a burn of anger and jealousy.

Someone had what he wanted. They knew how to be close to the sky and run with the wind. This boy knew how to use his legs and arms, how to turn his body and slip through gaps like water.

Tsuna realised that the jealousy had turned into admiration, so he pulled up a sudden influx of courage and cornered this boy. Kyouya was eleven and he was vicious, having just dropped and rolled after running from one building to another. He was startled when Tsuna accosted him suddenly and stumbled.

"Teach me how you do that!"

Kyouya refused at first, angry at being startled and beat the boy. But the boy kept appearing, on rooftops and in alleyways. He tried to follow and was beaten for it. Disturbing Kyouya, who was maintaining the peace, was therefore disturbing the peace.

But the boy kept appearing on a gust of wind with eyes so sad and hopeful.

Kyouya was rough, but he saw the itch in the child's eyes and realised that it was the same type of affliction as his own. Kyouya knew –as frustrating at that was– that _this_ was something that he needed to show Tsuna. So Kyouya decided he must introduce the little potential carnivore to the most basic, human instinct: running.

"I am going to be your predator. You need to prove to me that you can run, child."

When he saw the light in Tsuna's eyes when Kyouya promised to teach him made the self-proclaimed protector frown. He hadn't realised how dead the little boy's eyes had been until he saw what life there could be there.

He showed the boy the basics. He showed him how to vault over low obstacles and dive under high ones. Kyouya showed Tsuna the basics of wall running, and how to protect himself from falls. Kyouya taught Tsuna the difference between parkour and free running. But Tsuna taught Kyouya the true meaning of running _free_ in return.

While Kyouya, at twelve, was already a master of getting from A to B, but he didn't truly understand the desire of someone who was born of wind and fire until he ran with nine year old Tsuna.

When one day, as they were running around Namimori –training, as Kyouya would call it– Tsuna passed Kyouya in a blur. The black-haired boy was angry, yet excited. Tsuna was already gone, over the crest of a building and a blur against the concrete of their little village. At first, the violent boy was jealous that such a child could outrun him, but then he realised something important.

The boy was _meant_ to fly the same way Kyouya was meant to roam. As the leaves twirled around Tsuna and Kyouya tried to catch up, he could see the wings fit to burst from the brunet's back.

He knew when his student had surpassed him. As he grew older and his need for discipline grew stronger, Kyouya's runs with Tsuna grew fewer and farther between. He couldn't keep up with Tsuna anyway. Kyouya wasn't made of the wind. Soon enough, the only thing he remembered about the little fledgling whose wings he helped grow was the smile on his face when he was airborne.

Tsuna didn't really forget Kyouya though. He was indebted to the man. Without him, Tsuna would still be grounded and the wind would still be crying for him. However, like Kyouya, Tsuna grew busier with school and running from bullies who didn't like the grin on his face when he looked out the window. Soon enough Kyouya faded until one day, all Tsuna had of Kyouya was a deep respect that he didn't really understand.

* * *

Tsuna was thirteen when it wasn't enough to be able to run with the wind. He needed to be with it. He needed to get higher, get closer to the sky. He needed more or else he was going to go insane.

So he tested his limits. He ran on roofs that stretched higher and higher into the sky. He rolled around on the ground and saw how far he could fall before he felt the twinges of pain. The wind always rushed around him, laughing and taunting him, but the fire said nothing.

He felt freer than ever as he jumped between trees and from building to building. Tsuna found all the shortcuts in Namimori. He learned where the wind let him run and where it guided him through small spaces. He even found out where the wind didn't blow and the trust he had to put into his own abilities gave him such a rush.

Tsuna used walls as runways, a one way journey into the sky. He always missed the clouds though. He was always too grounded to actually make it. Gravity had too much of a hold on him, and Tsuna knew it. He still tried though. He followed wind roads that he had memorised but could no longer see, and jumped from tree to building, running straight up walls until he was running on air.

The wind always caught him and pushed him up, but Tsuna was grounded and it wasn't enough.

* * *

Tsuna was almost fifteen when he overstepped the line of man and tried to become the wind.

It was in an abandoned building that he had run through before. The wind was stifled there, a quick stream that rushed in and out, as if afraid to linger and became stagnant. Tsuna feared the same thing, but he tried not to think of it.

He was running, rolling over boxes and flying through holes. Laughter rippled through his mouth and echoed in the building. He sprinted through his usual route, completely instinctually. He saw a blockage ahead, a roof collapsed into the room that left his route closed. Quickly, he saw a way out, a ladder that reached into the maw and headed to the roof. He grinned, running quickly and leaping on steady legs.

He climbed, hand over hand as he touched the first rung, grinning at the feeling of _knowing_ how to run without hesitation.

Then he was falling. The wind screamed, but as he passed the floor he had just been on, heading for the basement, the air became still and the wind couldn't touch her child.

He landed on his back, wheezing and catching himself with his elbows. The pop and crack was very audible.

He dislocated his shoulder, shattered his elbow, and the bone of his upper arm almost stuck out the skin where it snapped in two.

His screamed, for once, louder than the winds. He knew, instinctively, that he had been too arrogant. He knew that he had ruined himself.

Tsuna knew he had just clipped his wings.

He didn't know if he called the ambulance, or whether someone heard his screams and called for the police in fear. All Tsuna knows was blankness, pain and waking up in the hospital.

His mother sobbed beside him, saying she was so sorry. She wasn't sorry for his loss. She didn't understand. She was only sorry that she wasn't there. She was sorry that she wasn't at his side for the surgery. Tsuna just looked at the plaster cast and wanted to scream until he knew nothing else.

Not because he was in pain, but because of his heart. The plaster looked almost messy, blank, and white. Pins stuck out, keeping his arm at a right angle and trying to piece his bones back together. It was undeniable proof that Tsuna may be made of the wind, and she may love him with all of her breezes, but he was _not_ the wind and he wasn't meant to fly.

No one said it because they didn't know the extent of Tsuna's need, or the sheer loss he felt. Tsuna knew though. He knew as he sobbed in his bed. What a fool he had been. Tsuna was arrogant. He tried to fly with wings of wax, and now he crashed and burned like the Icarus before him.

* * *

Tsuna was in his plaster cast for almost five months. He was in a sling for three weeks after that. He was scarred. His arm was ugly, but not because of the scar. It was atrophied without use. His muscles were spent and the scar tissue in his elbow left him crippled. He couldn't straighten his arm anymore, and he couldn't even grab the handle of a door without pain shooting up his arm.

He was shoved around in school until he was forced to escape with tears in his eyes. The nurse gave him pain relief and a late note. He was given –reluctant– permission to leave class early so he wasn't jostled in the halls. It didn't help though, not really. Tsuna knew the ache in his bones would never go away. It wouldn't go away until his wings grew back.

His mother pulled every string she could to get him into physiotherapy. Still, it took almost six weeks after Tsuna was out of the sling. Tsuna still couldn't straighten his arm. He couldn't catch the socks his mother threw at him to help build him up, and he couldn't close his fist no matter how much it shook.

Finally, though, he walked into the medical centre and was met by a lovely woman. She smiled and encouraged him. He didn't need encouragement. All he wanted was to fly again, and he knew that he needed his arms to do so. She kept encouraging even once she realised that though, and Tsuna appreciated it. She broke up the scar tissue with a few awkward movements in the first session, and told Tsuna what to do to build himself up between sessions.

But the damage had been done. While physiotherapy had been a god-sent and Tsuna could finally hold things again, the strength and assurance was gone. He did his exercises every day, every god-damn day, excelling and going above and beyond what even the physiotherapist thought he would ever be able to, given the time he went without aide.

She even smiled one day, telling him that she was proud of him, because he was finally back where he should be. But Tsuna knew he wasn't. He never will be again.

The scar was ugly and reached from the middle of his forearm all the way to his armpit. It was wide and red, angry at him. His shoulder was always sore.

Tsuna was sixteen now and he ran every day after his sessions, crying the entire time. He ran at buildings, he vaults over walls with screams of pain when his left arm touched down. He flew through holes in the wall and he tried to reach the sky again. He reached for ladders. He reached for ledges. He tried to climb onto his rooftops again.

Tsuna had been falling a lot more than he had been flying.

Tsuna cussed himself out and like every time before, as his grip on the ladder, branch, bricks, _wind_ slipped and he fell to the ground, tears ran from his eyes, tears that were relentless and desperate. He groaned as he hit the floor, winded, tired, and hurting.

His bruises, the cuts, and scrapes that always covered him, and the tears in his eyes, they long stopped being caused by the bullies.

* * *

Reborn didn't like dragging a civilian into the Mafia. It wasn't honourable, and the mafia had been once upon a time. However, there were fates and famiglia more powerful than that at play and they forced his hand.

Timoteo had told Reborn years ago that his heir had been picked, and the hitman had agreed to train the boy when he was of age. It had come a lot sooner than Reborn would have liked, but a promise was a promise.

Tsunayoshi would be an interesting student. Reborn thought so anyway. He was curious and smart. Iemitsu liked to brag, as did Timoteo, but Nana was down to earth about it. Yes, her Tsu-kun was clumsy and could be very quiet, but he was instinctual.

She did mention him getting clumsier after his flames were sealed, but thought nothing of it because he liked to run around so much. Iemitsu explained that Tsuna enjoyed parkit –what the _idiot_ didn't know was that it was called parkour– and had been taught since he was eight. When Reborn asked if he was any good, neither of the boy's parents could comment. Apparently, the boy never mentioned it, and they never saw him. All that Iemitsu mentioned was that the boy probably wasn't _that_ good, because he had fallen almost a year ago and pretty much ruined his arm.

" _He's over it now, though,"_ Iemitsu had explained to Reborn with a little worry, _"Nurse said he's all healed up, in record time I might add. So if he's still into that running, I'm sure he's back at it."_

Except, Reborn realised that Iemitsu knew nothing the moment he saw the boy at school. He knew by the way the boy held his arm, that the injury still bothered him. It bothered him enough that even when Reborn had followed him the entirety of the day, Tsuna didn't do any kind of special movement. It was unfortunate. The boy had worked so hard to build himself back up only to have no faith in the healed limb. He didn't seem to like free running anymore. Oh well, it wouldn't have helped in the long run anyway.

How wrong Reborn had been though.

While Tsuna was at school, Reborn arrived. He had food and coffee with Nana, reminiscing about the past, and Reborn settled into Tsuna's room. As he was putting away his spare guns, he was surprised to see Tsuna dropping into the street. He watched through the window as Tsuna vaulted over the gate, only for his face to crumple and to tuck his arm against his chest.

It was curious, because the boy was fluid, but Reborn didn't care. He was there to train a Mafia Boss, not a circus performer.

The boy would get over it, so long as he could hold a gun and fight, Reborn didn't care.

"I'm home." Tsuna called, dropping his coat and bag by the door, and toeing off his shoes. His head shot around when he noticed Reborn though, and the heat flared in a dull way when he spot the infant in a suit.

"Who are you?" Tsuna's eyes narrowed and he turned –superficially– to hide his arm.

Curious, again. The boy protected the limb. Perhaps this free running was more important to the boy's psyche than Reborn had thought. He would have to beat that out of the boy.

"Tsu-kun!" Nana appeared then, hugging her boy and ushering both him and Reborn into the kitchen. Nana had read Reborn's mind. There was coffee waiting for the hitman.

"Mom! Who is this?" Tsuna sat between Nana and Reborn, eyeing the man up with tense shoulders. Reborn noticed the way his eyes flickered around calmly, if not frustrated. He could see what Nana meant by instinctual.

"I am Reborn, your tutor." Reborn grinned at the boy's furrowed brow. "You mother has agreed to let me teach you. Your grades are appalling."

Tsuna scowled. Yes, his grades could use some work, but he didn't _care_. He was too busy running to care. "I don't need a tutor. I'm fine."

Nana frowned, patting Tsuna's hair. "Tsu-kun, that's not nice. Reborn here is a colleague of mine. He's agreed to tutor you for food and board. So please try?"

Tsuna looked at his mother with a frown, but he couldn't argue with her. He sighed and rolled his eyes a little –something else Reborn would have to beat out of the boy– before standing. "Fine, whatever. I'm going to my room. Call me if you need me, Mom."

Reborn watched the boy walk away, noticing how he took stairs three at a time, tripping only once and catching himself quickly enough. So he was clumsy, but not debilitating so. He was right. This boy would be an interesting student. Reborn grinned, finished his coffee and went to find Tsuna.

He would never admit to panicking slightly when the boy wasn't in his room. The window was open, so he sprinted out, only to find a ladder and a pair of legs swinging in the breeze.

Reborn wanted to shoot the boy just for that. Instead, he jumped onto the roof and stood beside the boy. His head was back –what a vulnerable position– and his eyes were glued on the sky with a pained face. It was curious. This boy was curious.

The baby –but he was more, Tsuna could _feel_ it in the muted heat– had arrived silently. Tsuna appreciated it, but he was staring, which the brunet didn't like. Tsuna had a ladder installed for his mother's sake, but up until a year ago, he had no need for it. The hitman's eyes were shaded with concern and Tsuna could understand why. He probably looked completely crumpled. Tsuna always collapsed up here, away from Nana's concern and closer to the wind. He collapsed here because this was it. This was as far as he could go to get his own volition.

"You're not really here to tutor me, are you?" Tsuna asked, eyes sad, but also mirthful. It was like he had lost a great deal and Reborn had to wonder how the boy could look so like the Arcobaleno. It was as if he were trapped.

Reborn knew that Nana was a bit over protective, but all mafia women were, especially if they only had one child. Vongola women were especially volatile, influenced by the Vongola will that thrummed in the air. Nana was especially affected, given that her husband and son had inherited hyper intuition and rather potent –sun and sky– flames. Still, even then, the boy shouldn't look boxed in, especially here on the roof with only Reborn in the way.

"I'm here to tutor you, boy." Reborn scoffed, pushing his observation away. "But also for more than that."

The boy didn't seem surprised and though Reborn knew that his flames had been cut off from him, Reborn thought that Tsuna may have a trickle still available to him. "Oh, then what _are_ you here for?"

"To train you to be a mafia boss." Ah, there was the shock. "I'm a hitman for hire and my boss needed a favour. So I said I'd train you since you're the only one left who can inherit the position. Your father, who works for my boss, agreed to it, which is why I'm here. Vongola needs a- What's wrong?"

Reborn was startled by few things, but the sudden opening of the boy as he unravelled from himself, the hands –gentle but insistent– on his shoulders and the sheer _hope_ in Tsuna's eyes really did startle Reborn.

"Did you say Vongola?" It was a whisper, as if the wind had been knocked from the boy.

"I did. What of it?" And Reborn was suddenly defensive. The boy shouldn't _know_ anything of Vongola and yet there was this hope there.

"I'll play along for now." Tsuna said suddenly, not really answering the supposed hitman's question. He was still suspicious. Reborn could see that he was fighting the hopeful bounce inside. "I won't make any promises. Being a Mafia boss isn't on my career list right now. But we'll see what you can do." _We'll see if you can help me_. It was unheard, but it rattled loudly in Reborn's mind.

It was suspicious, but Tsuna was already jumping down, off the roof and onto the floor. Shocked again, Reborn watch the boy tuck and roll –still clutching his arm like it were glass– with good accuracy and _ran_ as if the wind took the weight off his feet. Tsuna was flipping and jumping and the wind picked up as he did.

Reborn didn't even have enough time to catch his fedora as it was lost to the wind. Tsuna had jumped off of a wall, dropping towards the ground almost two stories down. Except he was calm, and Reborn swore that he saw wings.

* * *

Later, Reborn cornered Nana and demanded to know what she told the boy. She just laughed at him. She grinned a little, looking much more like the assassin who trained with Lal, before she explained.

"I knew that my boy would be called into the family at some point, Reborn-chan." she explained, putting the last of the dishes away. "I just wanted to make sure he knew where safety and family was."

Nana was nothing if not a contingency planner. Reborn had to give it to the woman. She had been training Tsuna since he was young. He knew safety and help laid within Vongola, even if until that day it had been in the words and not the family behind it.

* * *

Reborn followed Tsuna to school the next day. He watched the boy's wistful expression and was curious when he found it not directed at the sky, but at a girl. He grinned. It was the perfect time to act.

"You have a crush on that girl, huh?" Reborn asked, nudging the boy. Tsuna spluttered, no blush though, and said vehemently that no, he didn't.

Reborn, of course, didn't believe him, though he should have. Instead, he shot Tsuna. The panic evident in his expression, an angry flicker appeared in his eyes when he realised his only escape was over a wall, frightened Reborn a little. Tsuna twitched, but he had no faith, and the bullet hit him.

Reborn knew the boy had regrets, but he was surprised when the boy flipped to his feet and regarded Reborn with cold indifference. Reborn was used to the dying will bullet making people loud. Tsuna was quiet and looked more like he was in hyper dying will mode. After all, he wasn't naked. Then, his eyes widened –they had been narrowed into glowing orange slits– and he suddenly looked at his arm. Then there was a smile, as if he was free.

The boy grinned at Reborn and took off, except the hitman chased him because this _was_ interesting. He bypassed the Sasagawa girl and headed straight for the roof.

He almost clashed with the boy there, and he reared up in protest. Kyouya just grinned. Memories assaulted him as Tsuna vaulted off of his shoulder using his left arm. The two men took off, and Reborn heard laughter echo with cool hyper dying will. Reborn was left behind, confused, angry even. He had researched all potential threats and guardians in the area, but he didn't know that Hibari Kyouya and Tsuna knew each other.

There was no record of it, but by the way the disciplinarian looked at Tsuna, Reborn knew that he was happy. Their running was one of instinct and of built-up trust and knowledge. They had run together once upon a time.

Reborn cursed and punched a tree before he returned to the Sawada home. He didn't know Namimori well yet. He wouldn't be able to find his student. But he would batter him when he returned from running off like that.

Tsuna did return home, but there were tears in his eyes and a grit in his teeth. He snapped at his mother and bypassed Reborn. The door slammed and Reborn managed to pick up the awkward creak of the ladder to the roof.

Reborn left the boy alone. This wasn't something he had prepared for.

Tsuna, during this time on the roof, gripped his arm and tried not to scream. He hadn't felt that kind of freedom in so long. He hadn't remembered Kyouya, but suddenly it made sense. They flew together, Kyouya attacking while Tsuna dodged.

The brunet had even been able to feel his **fire** again.

But it only lasted five minutes. Five breathe taking minutes. But five minutes nonetheless. It left Tsuna growling and angry. He wanted it to last forever. He was closer to the sky than ever before. The fire in his belly called out to the wind, and for five minutes, Tsuna had an outline of the wind roads again.

All before he was falling again.

Kyouya was disappointed too. Tsuna knew. That the man had been so pleased for a challenge. He had gotten better while Tsuna had grown stagnant, and that made Tsuna even angrier. He wanted to be the wind again and make Kyouya chase him.

It was a start though, so when his temper settled, Tsuna went downstairs. He apologized to his mother and followed along with Reborn when the hitman forced him to go train.

Reborn had given Tsuna five minutes of freedom. The teenager was willing to see if he could get more.

* * *

There were a few more times that Tsuna got shot. Mochida, who had been angry at Tsuna for pushing him over the day before, challenged him to a kendo match. Tsuna had no skill to fight, so Reborn shot him. While Tsuna did win –in record time and with some of the smoothest movements Reborn had witnessed outside of martial artists– he had been gone in a second, gone literally with the wind.

Reborn had found Tsuna on the roof five minutes and thirty seconds after shooting him, punching a wall with his right hand.

Another time, Tsuna's class had been playing volleyball in gym class and the insults against his student frustrated Reborn enough to make him shoot his student. Let them see the power of Vongola. However, the boy spiked the ball perfectly and was gone again.

When Reborn caught up this time, it was six minutes later. Tsuna was choking on sobs and looking at his arm like it was diseased.

"Fuck, not again." he muttered.

Every time Reborn shot Tsuna, the boy ran. Sometimes he did as Reborn expected, regretting being called useless by his peers. However, he was gone the next minute. Sometimes he was following Kyouya. Sometimes he was following the wind.

It was frustrating to the nth degree.

Even though it was only dying will, and it was only meant to last five minutes, Reborn noticed Tsuna was slowly gaining control of those minutes. What were supposed to be frantic, regretful minutes, were slowly transforming into something more intentional. Reborn couldn't believe it, but Tsuna was already almost at a hyper dying will of his own determination.

Of course, there was little time to think about that. The guardians started appearing one by one in a rush that even Reborn had to sprint to keep up.

Reborn would only later realise that his broken sky was drawing broken elements to it. Each of his guardians was missing something, was locked inside themselves, and they only let loose when their sky was happy. Reborn knew this, because as Tsuna activated his flames –by himself _again_ – he laughed loud and light. Tsuna's only regret in life was not being able to fly. Now he had the power that acted on that regret, his regret powered his flight. When he laughed, when he _flew_ and danced on wind steps, Reborn could see the guardians' shoulders fall back and they would suddenly be free.

* * *

The first to arrive was Hayato Gokudera, of course. He and Tsuna were almost sixteen now. Reborn had asked Hayato to be prompt, and the boy was. Hayato was brilliant, really. His mind was sharp, and his wit uncanny. He didn't approach Tsuna right away. He watched him. Reborn would never know it, but Hayato was impressed. He also noticed the loss in Tsuna's eyes.

He decided that this was the perfect time to confront Tsuna.

"Che, you're not worthy of Reborn's tutelage. I would be a better Decimo than you could ever be." Hayato was calm, fingers twitching as if he were to reach for something. Tsuna noticed this but said nothing.

"I see you arrived, Gokudera." Reborn arrived, sitting on the railing nearest the boys. He was curious as to why Smoking Bomb wasn't ignited yet, but ignored it. "This boy here is going to fight you, Tsuna, for the position of Decimo.

"What?!" Tsuna screeched, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. He couldn't argue though. He was shot and Hayato gritted his teeth.

Bombs scattered on the ground. Instead of frantically lunging at them, Tsuna gracefully flowed from one bomb to the other, putting them out. He felt his flame twinge in his gut and noticed how far away from Hayato he actually was. Surely bombs weren't meant to be such long-distance weapons. Either way, Tsuna continued to put them out.

"Can't you fucking die already? Jeez. Double bomb."

Except Tsuna missed one.

The resulting explosion rained debris around them and Tsuna coughed in light of the smoke. He looked at Hayato to see a startling sight. The boy was frozen, eyes wide, chest heaving, and suddenly boneless. Tsuna knew fear. He knew fear intimately, and realised as the bombs in the silver-haired boy's hands dropped that he was both terrified of his own weapon and also of dying.

Tsuna charged and covered the boy with as much of his body as he could. He felt the debris on his back, but was more concerned by the sheer terror clouding the boy's eyes.

Hayato, of course, realised his mistake. He knew exactly how much he feared explosions. Still, it was the only weapon he could use. At least, he knew he could. He could see every single problem with dynamite and explosives. He could set up a building to detonate without so much as dusting the sidewalk around it. Hayato could set off the best fireworks display and it would be timed perfectly. Hayato could design the perfect explosive, for every situation.

He could. He had the mind for it. But he couldn't.

He couldn't look at explosives without flinching. He couldn't be touched with debris without losing his breathe. He couldn't feel the heat of an explosion without falling to his knees and sobbing. It was embarrassing, but he had been afraid of explosives too long now.

He was useless without bombs, and so he used the weakest ones he could. He made sure they were thrown far. He made sure he could only feel the rumble and see the dust. They were useless, like he was, but he needed _something_ to feel less useless.

It was all because of that stupid collapse when he was a child, caught in the rubble as the cliff-face he and his mother had been driving along was destroyed. Hayato had seen the explosives, knew what they were. He had been excited about them until they went off. He and his mother had been trapped for hours. His mother had died hours later. Hayato still remembered the sound of the explosion. He could still tell you exactly what components made the bomb. He could tell you everything wrong with it, even now.

But bombs were his life. He had nothing else. He was a useless mongrel who was afraid of his own weapons. So afraid and pathetic, he had to keep them on him. He had to-

"Never do that again." Tsuna was staring at him, dying will still active as he held his weight above Hayato. His eyes were narrowed and his voice strong. "Never force yourself like that again. You don't have to face your fear so brutally. There are other ways." Tsuna demanded.

Hayato agreed, nodding dumbly, and gave himself over to Tsuna. On his part, Tsuna just smiled and took Hayato away. Reborn growled, but let them go, boss-subordinate bonding or whatever.

The pair of boys were quickly out of the school boundaries. Tsuna ran across the wall with looping strides, and Hayato kept up. Of course, he didn't _know_ that Hayato was familiar with parkour, but something in the heat told him the boy would recognize the movements. They ran for a few more hours until they were both winded.

"Why did we do that?" Hayato asked, slumped on the edge of the building. He and Tsuna were panting, but Tsuna looked relaxed. The silver-haired boy was surprised to find that he was too.

There was a shrug and a bashful look. Tsuna didn't really have an answer. "You looked tense and still scared. I wanted to get you as far away from the, um, mess as possible."

Hayato still didn't understand. He didn't understand for weeks later. They gained a new friend in this time, but before that, Hayato and Tsuna ran every day. Hayato stayed level with his Boss, and a bomb in his pocket. Cowardice, a reminder of his weakness. As they ran together, training to move through cities and buildings, around trees and people, Hayato saw it. He saw Tsuna's wings. It was incredible. But like himself, Tsuna was crippled by fear. Tsuna feared falling –he feared his injured arm– and Hayato feared never being able to protect, because he feared his only weapon.

Knowingly or not, Tsuna led Hayato through another dangerous building.

"Come on, Haya," Tsuna sang as they jumped over the fence. "You can run faster than that."

Of course, the Mafioso could, but he enjoyed watching Tsuna run. Besides that, his hands had been aching, and that was never a good sign.

That feeling proved to be right. Half-way through the building, a rumble happened. It was loud and made Tsuna falter. Hayato saw the roof falling before Tsuna. He felt his chest cave into itself with fear, but he had his hands on his bombs and his mind whirring even before he could think.

This time, it wasn't the explosion, the debris, or the fire that made Hayato choke. No, it was Tsuna. The boy was lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Hayato was on his knees with arms around Tsuna before either blinked. "Thank you."

Whether Tsuna knew it or not, Hayato didn't care, but the boy had forced Hayato over his fear and into a new one. Bombs had killed his mother, of this Hayato was sure. However, if he hadn't had his dynamite on him today, Tsuna would have died. The constriction in Hayato's chest proved to him he had a new fear, one greater than his pyrophobia. He never wanted to see Tsuna hurt, ever. As it was, Tsuna had cuts and bruises all over himself from the smaller debris that Hayato's dynamite couldn't break up.

He needed to develop new explosives. Suddenly, he had a hundred different designs and a hundred different scenarios for them. Hayato grinned, holding Tsuna tighter. "No, thank you, Juudaime."

Hayato had himself back. He knew about Tsuna's weakness. He knew the screams when Tsuna used his left arm. He knew the terror in Tsuna's eyes when he fell. But Tsuna had fixed Hayato, and Hayato was determined to do the same for him.

* * *

By this time, Takeshi Yamamoto had already wormed his way into their little group. The boys were still sixteen, though closer to seventeen by this time. When he saw Tsuna covered in bruises, his eyes had narrowed and his hand automatically twitched for his sword.

"No need to worry, Baka." Hayato assured, "I got it."

Takeshi never seen Hayato so calm and it would have worried him in any other situation. Instead, he looped a hand around Tsuna –to be sure the boy was actually still there– and left the sword alone.

Reborn still didn't understand how Tsuna managed to find these people and how he managed to fix them. Of course, it was probably down to the natural pull of elements and skies. Takeshi was a rather unstable rain, as most were, without skies. Rain had no place but up in the sky. They had no way to fall to the ground and cleanse the world below and above.

Reborn had tagged Takeshi as a guardian the moment he saw him. He was a natural swordsman. In fact, the art ran in his blood. However, he wasted it on his baseball. Tsuna could see the tension lines in Takeshi's form where Reborn saw potential. Tsuna saw where a sword would fit and where the movement was forced to fit a baseball bat.

The boy could have been brilliant. That was the problem though. Reborn had never seen a boy with such a deep sense of oleka. That was to say, Takeshi was highly aware of where he wanted to be, but he was too caught up in the realisation that he would never remember everything he did in life. He would never remember that on a Tuesday three weeks ago a leaf fluttered across his neck –almost frightening him– and he wouldn't always be able to remember the look on his mother's face at breakfast. The knowledge that he would forget, even his most important memories, let alone mundane ones, drove Takeshi near insane. It made him stunt himself so his concentrations could be put towards remembering everything, even if he was doomed to fail by the nature of memories.

This fear of not living to his fullest, Reborn suspected, was the reason that Takeshi took it so harshly when he broke his arm in practice. Suddenly, every memory that Takeshi did have, of fun times, of childhood, were overshadowed by the current time. Everything he did, he did his best to grasp. Every mundane thing that made him think that, perhaps, his life was a memorable one, that perhaps, he wasn't fading away, was drowned out. Suddenly, the possibility of playing baseball –of maybe finding a true reason to take up the sword– was gone. Suddenly, the prospects he had thought _one_ _day_ possible, were gone. Suddenly, Takeshi's life was gone.

Whether it was that Takeshi was just too full of oleka, or perhaps he was just a fickle boy, it didn't matter. One minute, Tsuna was eating lunch, and the next he was on the roof trying vainly to bring Takeshi home.

He sped across the roof. Tsuna vaulted over the fence with a grace and speed that neither Takeshi nor Reborn had seen in the boy. He was gripping the fence with his right hand just as the bullet hit, and in a burst of flames that lit the air, he had Takeshi with his left hand.

"Find a reason, Takeshi." Tsuna gritted his teeth as he pulled the boy back from his fall. Rain was supposed to fall away from the sky, but not like this. Tsuna understood that from the pain in his gut when he _thought_ of the black haired boy suddenly being gone from his life. "Don't give up just because this path didn't work for you."

There was the instant, right as Tsuna dragged Takeshi onto the roof and the flames went out, that Takeshi had a 'eureka' moment, a sudden realisation. Takeshi had found it. He had found something he could _fight_ for; a memory, an experience that would be worth the risk of never experiencing anything else again.

"Maa, you're right, Tsuna." Takeshi pulled Tsuna close, breathing him in, _memorizing_ and experiencing Tsuna as a whole, making sure he knew exactly what he was going to do. "I was being a real idiot. No, I was. I won't ever do it again."

Tsuna really did try to argue with the self-demining comments, but the roof doors exploded and Hayato was all but pounding Takeshi into the ground.

"You better make it up to Tsuna, you asshat!" he growled, though his kicks were all carefully aimed away from the almost-rain guardian's arm and more to bruise than truly harm. Abusive, yes, but the mafia was like that.

"Maa, maa, don't worry, I will." Hayato stopped the assault, staring into dark brown eyes in wonder, "As soon as I'm healed up, I have training to do. After all, I can't join your mafia game if I don't play seriously."

Though Hayato wanted to kick the boy some more, because it _wasn't_ a game, he couldn't. Takeshi looked more serious, livelier in fact, than Hayato had ever seen him. So instead, he promised to pound him in training. Only the most serious guardians could be with their tenth after all.

"Che, took you long enough, moron." Hayato sighed, but he did help Takeshi to his feet.

"Maa, sorry, Haya. Won't happen again."

Poor Tsuna could only stare at the pair with utter confusion. He gripped his elbow unconsciously. He really did look put out, but there was a lightness in his shoulders. So Reborn kicked him.

"Get back to class, Dame-Tsuna. Mafia bosses don't skip lessons."

The boys scattered, much to Reborn's amusement. Suddenly, there was a new member in the famiglia, and morning training, and afternoon runs. The days would be much busier than usual from now on, especially once Takeshi was healed and the training went full-tilt again.

* * *

Of all the guardians that Tsuna had amassed to his group, Ryohei was probably the most straightforward. There was a complexity to him that baffled Tsuna and Hayato. At the same time, there was also a simplicity to him. His reasoning that seemed to resonate with Tsuna.

Onism was a rather interesting affliction. To feel alone, to make reasons not to travel and not to see, on such a large planet was heart-breaking. Reborn had been afflicted with it once upon a time. It was before he became a hitman. As a child, it was what enveloped his heart. Perhaps it was what made him an unaffiliated hitman. It gave him freedom. It sated the realisation of how much of the world he was going to miss, living only one life.

Ryohei felt the same thing. Reborn could tell the instant he met the boy. He heard of his past and his promise to his sister. His fighting was the urge and the pain. Realisation hit him. His promise to his sister was the salve to stop the itch.

Ryohei was fascinated with the world. Maps covered his walls and were etched into his eyelids. He devoured encyclopaedias and diaries of culture, religion, and faith. He saw beauty in the differences, and saw wonder in the seven. He wanted to see as much as he could of the world. He was so fascinated. He wanted to make his life a map in and of itself. He wanted to fill in the blankness of his days. Ryohei feared that Namimori would literally monopolise the roadmap of his breaths. He feared that the world would narrow to the dreary town that he could sprint with his eyes closed.

But he had a duty, and that was more powerful than his fear. He had a sister and a family. He had no _real_ reason to travel to these places that he wanted to go to. Want, and need, and duty were all different. Ryohei was fine with this.

That was until he met Tsuna.

Ryohei was eighteen and Tsuna and his friends had just turned seventeen. Watching the boy sprint past him had ignited Ryohei's fighting instinct. There was something very feral about Tsuna when he ran. Nothing stopped him, except on his left side. It made Ryohei curious, especially when he saw the two others darting behind, trying to keep up.

Ryohei chased them for a while, but drew short. They seemed to know where they were going, and it seemed like he didn't. Every day, they grew faster, they used each other to bounce over buildings and leap over trees. They seemed to grow _faster_ for something.

As an observer, Ryohei couldn't keep up. He couldn't because he didn't have a reason to jump over the broken wall at the edge of Namimori. He didn't have the drive to see what was on the other side.

The bullies had been a good enough reason for Ryohei to remain with his sister. The promise to protect her and to only fight for her had been enough for Ryohei. It had sated his realisation that he would never see the world. The bullies were the monsters on the map that told him to look away from what lied beyond them. They helped him forget the cultures he dreamed to _live_ in more than understand.

He allowed himself to forgo trips across Japan. He allowed himself to be dumbed down by the populace of Namimori. He let the fantasies remain just that, no matter how possible they were for him.

Ryohei let his savings add up. Maybe, just maybe he would be given a chance to leave, to travel, to see as much of the world as possible.

"Where are you going?" Ryohei didn't know what made him speak up, but he finally caught the group of high schoolers when they weren't running and he couldn't stop the question.

"We're training." Tsuna panted as Takeshi threw a water bottle at him. He was panting as well, but he always took care of Tsuna first. "We've got to get stronger so we can protect each other."

"Che, why do you want to know, muscle-head?" Hayato's retort, while sharp, was broken up by his panting. Reborn was somewhat disappointed. After all this time, the boys' stamina was still weak.

"Why?"

Tsuna thought for a moment. He knew that Reborn wanted this boy as a guardian, but Tsuna was more partial to letting the potential people chose for themselves. "We want to see how far we can go. We're going to dangerous places in the future. We need to train so we can make it even farther than that."

The white haired man had been left behind again. With the teens fists crushing inwards, Reborn knew that Tsuna had driven Ryohei forward, but hadn't given him a map. Ryohei forged ahead though, following, learning, running with them and learning that fighting was helped by flying. Parkour was a new kind of training, and Ryohei found that he was enjoying it.

He wasn't training to keep a stale promise anymore. Instead, Ryohei was fighting, and training, and running, and laughing with Tsuna and his friends. Suddenly, Ryohei's world was larger than his family, his sister, and Namimori. Suddenly, his world was Tsuna, following wherever he went and whatever he was fighting for. It was startling, and the drive to travel and see what else there was out there was suffocating. The need to go out before Tsuna and forge a path with a machete and his fists nearly drove Ryohei insane, especially when Ryohei learnt why these boys were so desperate to grow strong. After all, Takeshi's sword was sudden, and Hayato's bombs were loud and destructive now, but Tsuna's fire was engulfing. When Tsuna explained about the mafia, and his position within it, Ryohei suddenly understood. He needed to let go of Namimori. He needed to stop thinking of his promise as a wall. There were bigger monsters out there. The mafia, which had dragged Tsuna into it, was one of them.

Ryohei clapped Tsuna on the back and pulled him close, ruffling his hair and calling him little brother. "O-Oiii! Don't get so worried, little brother. I'm going to be your sun guardian. I'll set you a path so you know that I'm ahead of you TO THE EXTREME."

Kyoko, no matter how sweet and important she was to Ryohei, had always been a limiter. He had always been forced to promise away his wants for her. He had always held a duty he wasn't obligated to fill before the desire to learn and understand. Kyoko loved him, but didn't understand him.

Tsuna had been around a month and Ryohei knew that he would never be limited. He could shine and grow and obsess over whatever culture and place he wanted. Tsuna would be sure to arrange the trip for him.

Suddenly, Ryohei's map grew. Reborn smirked when he saw the onism fall away like darkness to the day. He hadn't been experiencing life. He had been living day to day, but was dead. Now though, he had prospect and that was the strongest driver Ryohei could ask for.

* * *

One guardian that Reborn would say wasn't exactly _broken_ was Lambo. He was a child that had lived a good –though perhaps harsh, as the mafia was– life. He was training to kill and was failing miserably. He wasn't broken, as such, just very lonely.

Tsuna was quick to remedy that.

The young hitman-in-training had appeared on the steps of the Sawada house not long after Takeshi had made himself comfortable. The boys were still sixteen and Lambo was seven. Long story short, he tried to kill Reborn, twice, before Tsuna intervened.

"Lambo, what are you doing?"

"Lambo-sama is going to kill Reborn!" The boy was so cheerful about it that it hurt Tsuna. The boy's face grew tight and his eyes flickered.

 _Interesting_ was all that Reborn could think about the interaction.

Still, Tsuna persevered, taking Lambo in his arms and pulling him close. Lambo froze for a second, but the grasp that followed was desperate. Tsuna could almost predict the answer to his next question. "Why would you need to do that, Lambo?"

"Because then I will be worthy of my famiglia!" Lambo sounded so happy, kicking his little feet even as he clutched Tsuna's hands around his waist. "Papa says that to earn a place in the famiglia, I need to prove myself. Killing Reborn is the best way to do that. It's that way for everyone."

"Not for me." Tsuna explained, pushing Lambo away, but keeping him close as he looked into startled, accepting green eyes. "You will never have to do _anything_ for me, you will always be worthy of my love, Lambo."

The seriousness in Tsuna's words, in his eyes, in the way he held Lambo, even had Reborn shivering. He had barely stepped in as a tutor really, had only been around for a few years, and the boy was already charging ahead.

Reborn knew though, that Tsuna had so much more to learn.

"T-T-Then, can Lambo-sama call Tsuna, Tsuna-nii?"

Tsuna just smiled and soon enough, was being pushed into the ground by a rather overenthusiastic Lambo, whose screeches made Hayato pitch a fit when he walked into Tsuna's room with drinks.

From there it was just a speeding mess of running, school, bombs, wrong-answered questions, with some correctly answered ones, and, of course, a growing family. The four boys mingled happily, both in and out of class. Tsuna was slowly showing them how he managed to get to school _exactly_ on time every day, regardless of how late he woke up.

They even started teaching Lambo to run. Reborn insisted it so that the boy could learn how to fight and gain some –fucking (in Hayato's words)– grace, but Tsuna insisted that Lambo needed to learn parkour so that he could protect himself. It was during one of these 'training-play' sessions that something amazing happened. Takeshi, Hayato, and Ryohei had gone for their routine run around Namimori to start teaching Lambo about parkour when the child had sprinted off. Tsuna and Hayato had stayed in the park while Takeshi and Ryohei had gone down the street to see if they could see the child.

They didn't see the child though. He wasn't down the street. Lambo was in a tree, balancing on a thin branch and giggling all the way. Before any of them could even figure out what was happening, Tsuna was running. He didn't hesitate as he sprinted up the slide, and while Reborn thought that Tsuna was going to try to climb the tree himself, the boy didn't. Just as Lambo's face grew white with horror, and the branch beneath his feet snapped, Tsuna vaulted into action.

Using his left hand, he gripped the bars at the top of the slide, the ones that usually kept children from falling. He heaved himself up and over, using the momentum to reach Lambo and grabbing him before he fell.

For a second, Tsuna had wings.

But only a second. They both fell, Hayato practically scrambling to try and catch them as Tsuna tucked and rolled to safety. Pushing himself up and dropping the boy on his feet, Lambo screamed for a second and sobbed.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Tsu-nii! Are you alright? Lambo-sama isn't alright?!"

Once Tsuna patted his head though, Lambo was fine. "Lambo, don't try that again, okay? We need to teach you to run safely and be there for accidents like this, okay?" Reborn could tell that Tsuna's eyes were glowing with that uncontrollable urge to protect, and was ready to admit that he was proud of that.

Lambo laughed brashly before ducking. Hayato wasn't as lenient as Tsuna apparently. "Oi, cow-head, don't put Tsuna in danger like that? Are you fucking stupid?"

Before long, the pair ran off as Ryohei and Takeshi jogged back into the chaos. Tsuna just blinked, and looked at his hand. Lambo was screeching and the other boys didn't pay any notice to Tsuna as they chased their youngest member. Reborn did though. Reborn saw the surprise, the horror, and the sheer relief.

Suddenly, yet still slowly, Tsuna was regaining his faith in his arms.

Slowly, Tsuna's wings were healing.

But Reborn didn't really care. He tried to tell himself that the giddy smile on Tsuna's face as he and his guardians sprinted back to the Sawada house was just silly. Reborn really tried not to be as ecstatic as Tsuna was when the brunet –tentatively– started to use his left hand again.

Reborn really tried, but it was hard not to thank all his lucky stars that the Dying Will bullets had been letting Tsuna move on from his injury.

* * *

There was only guardian that had somehow always been there, even when Reborn and Tsuna didn't realise it.

Kyouya had itched since he was young. It was mentally exhausting and unbearably frustrating. It was a part of himself that he couldn't understand. He didn't understand it, didn't know why the boundaries of Namimori made him blood thirsty for truants, but also horrified. He didn't know why his eyes travelled along the main road, and he didn't understand why he wondered about how far he could walk before people realised he was missing.

It was wanderlust. Reborn knew that. It was an awful affliction, especially for people as proud, protective, and possessive as Kyouya. It was dangerous and it surprised Reborn that the boy hadn't torn himself apart yet.

Though perhaps, that was why he trained Tsuna. Kyouya knew that he couldn't fulfil a duty and a lust for travel alone. He needed to trust someone bigger, stronger and freer than himself; someone without a lust for travel, someone with roots and arms that spread long and far. Kyouya needed someone who could reach him in an instant, but wouldn't chase him.

Kyouya needed someone to chase.

He didn't know that he was tethered until he was free. He was able to feel such a thrill at twelve when Tsuna had surpassed him. However, because he didn't understand his wanderlust, he couldn't act on it. Instead, he followed his pride to protect Namimori and ignored the boy who promised him freedom.

Nothing in Kyouya's life meant more to him than the need to travel. Not like Ryohei, who wanted to learn and feared missing out. Kyouya had itchy feet. Kyouya hated being bound, to anything and anyone. He hated the thought that his movements were restricted. He hated small spaces.

Namimori was small. So stifling and suffocating, even if he was the top dog and bowed to no one, even running on rooftops with only the wind ahead. It wasn't enough. It was too small.

Except, Tsuna was ahead of him. Tsuna was stronger, faster, and freer than anything Kyouya had experienced. For once, Kyouya wasn't afraid of being bound. His pride didn't fight his lust for travel, and he felt himself bowing his head to a boy he had forgotten about.

Kyouya was nineteen when Tsuna got his wings back. When he hears of the dangers the boy had to face as he gather's guardians, Kyouya was suddenly furious. He was threatened by the danger to the liberty that had promised his own freedom.

He knew that Tsuna was the only one he could trust to protect Namimori, to protect his Pride. Kyouya knew that Tsuna was the only one who could truly let Kyouya go, without the expectations of a returned favour, and the promise of a place to put up his feet when his wanderlust brought him back.

Tsuna could offer Kyouya a home, while he never had to think of it as such.

"Welcome back, little bird." Kyouya almost purred when Tsuna appeared on the building with his gaggle of children. He was enticed by the fire in Tsuna's eyes and even more so by the fire in his hands. Kyouya was pleased by the determination of the fledglings around them.

They would never surmount to the sky like the phoenix Tsuna was, but they may well be eagles with the correct nudge.

* * *

Somewhere just before Kyouya finally re-joined Tsuna's ranks, Leon started to get sick.

"Reborn, what's wrong with Leon?" Tsuna was concerned, of course. The little lizard was friendly. However, the little chameleon had been bloated and glowing for almost three days now. It was more than a little concerning.

Reborn gave some roundabout explanation about Leon getting ready for Tsuna's next step, but he really wasn't sure why it was happening. Nothing had changed. If Leon was reacting at that time, she should have reacted years ago when Tsuna started pushing the boundary of bog-standard Dying Will and its hyper bother.

So the fact that Leon was burning up, the fact that she was working hard to make sure that Tsuna could deal with the stress and flame-release of true Hyper Dying Will worried Reborn.

For good reason, of course. Tsuna was almost seventeen and Reborn got a phone call from Italy to say that a group of convicts were making a beeline for Tsuna and his guardians. Reborn had hoped that Tsuna would never face the mist that stalked him.

Tsuna was almost seventeen and he started to have nightmares of experimentation. He dreamt of the mafia, of pain and of exhaustion.

He was exhausted.

His training dwindled as he fell asleep standing. They still went for runs, but Tsuna was distracted and Reborn knew that the time was coming for him to meet with the last two pieces of his sky.

That wasn't to say that he liked it when Mukuro appeared, slashing and trying to burn Tsuna down. His goons wrestled with Tsuna's guardians. And though parkour helps, they really were on their own. Reborn had to concentrate on Tsuna. He had a duty to him over the others.

Tsuna dodged and weaved. Though he had a handle on the dying will, he was still exhausted. The limiters were still there and Tsuna's flame was too compressed. Not enough was released to battle Mukuro, especially when the mist user had been haunting Tsuna with nightmares to weaken him.

It was an answered prayer when Leon released Tsuna's new weapon.

Nana was right about Tsuna. The boy lived on instinct and launched himself at the gloves. As soon as they were on his hands, he flipped and jumped and dodged Mukuro's well-placed trident. The dodging didn't last.

Tsuna had flames in his hands and an orange hue to his eyes before long. The battle danced back, but Tsuna was blindsided by Chrome.

The tumbling went on for an eternity, and all three fighters were exhausted. While Tsuna had been kept up, Mukuro and Chrome had to stay up to implement the nightmares.

Perhaps though, for good reason.

Tsuna stepped forward, rolling around a weak attack, until he was in their faces, pulling them to his chest.

Both the girl and boy froze. Reborn barely managed to hear his whisper.

"You are more than experiments. You are more than twins. I want you as guardians, to be whoever you want to be."

With that he collapsed, and Reborn could have shot him there. Except, Mukuro's goons disappeared, and Chrome fell to her knees. Both of them stared at Tsuna like he was some saint.

Reborn thanked some god again for Tsuna's hyper intuition. Whatever he had said was the right thing. Mukuro, in fact, became rather protective of Tsuna, fighting both Hayato and Kyouya for 'supremacy' within the ranks of guardians.

Chrome just stuck close, grateful for the chance to let her own wings spread.

Reborn would later realise that the twins had a mild form of 'vemodalen'. They had been used, abused and mistreated all their lives. In fact, their lives as experiments –and not just vermin to be shot– had hinged on the fact that they were mist twins. Where vemodalen was the fear that everything had already been done, the twins feared that their entire lives had been used up, that _they_ had already been 'done'. Tsuna must have known from the visions he had been given because by accepting them, by treating them as two separate people, he had washed away the fear in less than a day.

* * *

Tsuna and his guardians were training again. This time, they were at an abandoned building a few towns over from Namimori. Tsuna was leading, weaving and ducking. He started towards the tallest building, and his guardians followed.

He used the walls, and ledges, and fire-escapes as a runway. Higher and higher, he ran until his feet finally touched the roof, and even then, he found a ledge higher and vaulted into the sky.

Fire ignited in his hands as his gloves transformed. He rocketed into the clouds until he was losing breath. He cut his flames off. He let the wind catch his back and he fell through the sky. He didn't let the tears on his face signify his exhaustion, or his sadness.

These tears, the ones the wind caught and held as she laughed in his ear, were tears of relief.

Tsuna could feel it. A warmth that had always been there, calling him to the sky in his belly. Now though, it wasn't just a dull ache as he sprinted up buildings into the sky, only to fall. Now it roared and burned with an intensity Tsuna couldn't possibly imagine.

Tsuna called on the flames in his belly and let them cradle him in a way only the wind had ever done.

Tsuna would never be stuck on the ground ever again. His wings were no longer made of wax. He would never be melted and thrown away by the sun. Tsuna wasn't Icarus anymore. He had wings of the sun, and a heart of the sky.

"Come back, Tsuna." Reborn muttered as he called out to Tsuna from the roof. "Just because you got yourself some fancy air-time doesn't mean your training is done."

Tsuna just grinned as he fell back towards the ground. Tsuna owed Reborn so much, and he knew it. He knew that without the crazy hitman, without the Dying Will bullets, and the Dying Will Flames he had inherited from his great-something-Grandfather, Tsuna would have never touched the sky. "Ah, I know. I'm coming, Reborn."

The hitman just grinned and pulled his fedora down. Tsuna had taken the few lessons he had in stride, but had always been distracted by his inability. The mental blocks were gone now. The child had his freedom, and now, the young man could spread his wings.

Nothing made Reborn happier than his students reaching for their truest potential.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I tried to get a certain feeling across in this fic, and I don't think I managed to. I wanted to touch upon a more 'mental' blockade in most of the guardians, and Tsuna himself. The original author that I borrowed this idea from is (so far) focusing on a very physical disability on Tsuna part, but I wanted him and his guardian to have a more mental block to them.
> 
> Tsuna couldn't trust his arm after his fall (couldn't trust himself), Kyouya wanted to wander but was honour bound, Takeshi was too hung up on the idea of 'fading away' ect.
> 
> Most of the terms and ideas of them came from 'the dictionary of obscure sorrows' on YouTube. I seriously suggest it.
> 
> But I don't think I got that across very well. So please, if you wouldn't mind, go read the original. It is well worth it. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Love you all, please review.
> 
> ~~Bleach-ed-Na-tsu :3


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